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Gender in the Workplace

 

 

A Nonbinary Individual’s Foray into Corporate A.V.

Part 3: Religious Intersectionality

 

Since writing my last blog post, a lot has changed. Namely, I no longer work at the A.V. company that I mentioned before. To be frank, the misgendering and discriminatory practices became too much to handle, and I needed a way out.

Before I left, there were unfortunately a few more instances of transphobia, and worryingly, antisemitism that I faced.

Our A.V. team would always work with other teams to make the corporate world function. A.V. would set up and coordinate projectors, laptops, internet (whether WiFi or Ethernet,), sound boards, microphones, lights, you name it. We were on the tech side of the event sphere. The banquet team would prepare and serve food, the sales team would budget and interact with the clients, and the arrangements team would set up chairs, tables, and stages for each event. My main problems always seemed to arise from arrangements.

The arrangements team was all-male. I find this worthy of note for a variety of reasons, but primarily that it had created a work environment that lacked any diverse perspective, and as such, created a “locker room” environment (borrowing words from Justice Kavanaugh here.) This meant, in their case, that there was no wariness of verbiage among them, and they felt free to say whatever was on their minds without fear of repercussion. In one particular instance, I found myself in the Great American Hall with the arrangements team and one of my A.V. coworkers. We were folding drapes, and as the arrangements staffer rolled in a table, he was loudly complaining about millennial women. Of course, I turned an ear in. The Great American Hall is a very large space, which is worthy of note because even as he walked past me, he was talking to his coworkers across the space. Once again, I felt very ignored. This would have been fine had he been discussing work, or shared stories with his coworkers, or even movies or music. However, when he’s loudly talking about women’s rights (yes, specifically that we belong in the kitchen making him dinner! So original,) I find myself unable to keep quiet.

In response to his complaint, I uttered a quick “Oh, I just love working in a hostile sexist workplace, don’t you?” to my male A.V. coworker. He looked at me with wide and concerned eyes. A hush fell over the entire hall, and I felt my perceived female invisibility vanish in an instant. Eyes were on me as I continued working like nothing had happened. Later that hour, as I had moved on to another task, I heard one of the arrangements team start to make a joke about how Starbucks is only for women. He then paused, looked directly at me, and then said “Well. Let’s just say, my wife likes it more than us guys, huh?” I rolled my eyes and continued my task, thinking to myself that the group of them probably won’t even remember this conversation. But I will. I have to. If we could so easily forget discrimination, perhaps life would be easier, but as it is, I will never forget how it feels to be mocked and talked down to.

Another member of the arrangements staff found it funny to torment me at length. Somehow, he found out my dead name and thought it was really funny to constantly refer to me as that at work. I tried to tell him this upset me, and that I didn’t find it funny. When I expressed that, another arrangements employee approached me, saying that his coworker was only making fun of me because I reacted, and that I should be less hurt! I balked at those words. I distinctly remember looking into his eyes, and saying “But I am hurt.” Clearly, this didn’t matter, as the toment didn’t stop.

Since leaving the A.V. company, I began work at a small theatre, Civic, located in the West End of Allentown. I wish I could say the misgendering instantly ceased, but even with short hair and a gender neutral presentation, I am still often referred to with she/her pronouns. What brings me comfort, though, is that the strangely passive-aggressive comments and debaters trying to engage me have all but completely ended. In theatre, someone might mess up your pronouns, but most seem to believe and understand you when you say you’re not cis. I am no longer responsible for explaining my reasoning for being, and that is such a relaxor.

On one of my last days at the A.V. company, I was not only asked to explain my gender but also my religion. I don’t find myself talking about my Jewish identity much. I wear a Star of David pendant most days and occasionally will wear my Star of David earrings. I will request off for major holidays, but other than that, I tend not to discuss it. Throughout my time working there, I was met with different levels of acceptance from my coworkers, and I learned that sometimes even the most vocal supporters are the ones with something to hide.

The older gentleman I mentioned last month, with the staunch antimask and climate denial beliefs, was quite the offender of that. As Chanukkah approached, he purchased a small LED menorah to keep in the office, and would have me light it each morning (I worked from 6 AM to 4 PM usually.) He seemed to take great pride in that. But on one of the last days of the holiday, the governor of PA, Josh Shapiro, was holding a Zoom meeting in one of our meeting rooms. I wanted to wish him a chag hanukkah sameach, or a Happy Chanukah. I mentioned to my coworker how important to me it was that we had a Jewish political leader, as we’ve never had a president who is anything but Christian. After that chat, he pulled me aside privately, and told me that “my people are plenty well-represented in government.” Oh. I left this conversation shocked– did he just imply to me that he thought Jews ran the world?

I was still working at this workplace during the Oct. 7 events that preceded Netanyahu’s siege of the Gaza Strip. Four separate coworkers tried to debate me about this, as well, like it was something that I had a personal stake in. I tried my best to explain that I’m against murder and war in any way and that by being an American Jew my experience and opinions were likely vastly different than a Jew living in Israel. But I kept being talked over. I left that conversation less shocked. Clearly, they didn’t actually want my opinion, but rather my ear and my time. They wanted my validation of their beliefs, with me simply being a token Jew, and a token female Jew at that– meant to sit quietly and agree. Fantastic.

The most egregious case of antisemitism came from a coworker named John. I feel less afraid to name him specifically, as he was well-known throughout the workplace for being a poor worker and an entitled, arrogant person. No conversation with him would last five minutes without him mentioning that he’d been in the industry thirty-five years (a number he kept inflating, as if we wouldn’t notice,) or that he knew better than his coworkers, despite his constant errors that would delay the team on a near-daily basis. As such, nobody wanted to work with John. Since I was young and quite a pushover, I was often assigned to work alongside him.

John would often try to teach me as if I were a young protegee and he was a grandmaster. The largest flaw in this was that he’d try to teach me the same few things over and over again, seemingly forgetting what he’d taught me before. Much like with my unwillingness to correct people on my pronouns, I found myself unwilling to correct this, either, and just go along with learning what he’d shown me before.

On my very last shift with John, he pulled the card he’d seemingly been waiting to pull: he asked me why I didn’t take work off for the Sabbath.

In today’s gig economy, it’s very hard to become an established professional. I want to be a sound engineer, so I will have to work Friday night performances. It may be a bit of a sore spot for me, yes, but I’m more than happy attending my Rabbi in Selinsgrove’s online services on Saturday mornings. To grow my career in this field, that is a necessary sacrifice. John wasn’t content with this answer.

Somehow, he began on a tangent about how he believed Jews were very controlling. I was very stricken to hear this. That is a common antisemitic talking point, and I didn’t want to stand for that. Of course, I didn’t. I tried to defend myself, but he kept talking over me. It was another weird circumstance where I wasn’t being talked to, but rather talked at– he didn’t care what input I had, only what he had to say. Whether he was holding on to this protegee notion or simply seeing me as “only a woman” (re: lesser and subservient,) I wasn’t sure. But I did leave that conversation seething at the hypocrisy. He’d just told me a good deal about his form of Christianity, and I couldn’t help but think: isn’t this a double standard? You call Jews controlling, but will happily turn a blind eye to Evangelical suffering in small communities, brought on by a controlling leader where no child is allowed to be different or they will be sent to hell? It is just all so convenient. If you shame the target (in this case, Jews,) for something your own religion struggles with, it will shift the focus and conversation away from your own issues, and perpetrate a stereotype that’s been in effect for decades. It’s the same scapegoat blame that has followed the Jewish people for generations.

Before I end this blog post, I want to take a moment to derail my own conversation. I want to say, unequivocally, that I stand with Palestine. It took some processing immediately following the music festival attack, but whatever supposed retribution Netanyahu has taken is so beyond the scope of that one day. Over 30,000 people have been killed by the IDF, and that number is only increasing daily. Gazans have been told to flee to the South, where they were then bombed. They were told to flee to Rafah, which was then bombed. Some of the poorest people in the world are being herded like cattle, where a mass extinction event is unfolding. What is occurring is not a take-down of a terror organization, as many U.S. Citizens would like to paint the issue. Civilians are starving to death in the largest numbers since the Holocaust, and to see my people perpetuate that cycle is so maddening and heartbreaking that I cannot truly put it into words.

I may have faced heightened antisemitism in the wake of the Oct. 7 attack, but it is nothing compared to the militaristic US-sponsored hell that Israel is invoking on Palestinian civilians currently. If you have taken the time to read this far in my humble blog, I ask, from the bottom of my heart, to donate where you can. There isn’t much one person can do, as I’m woefully aware, but as a union of individuals, we can change the world.

I am linking multiple GoFundMe pages from disenfranchised Palestinians. Please, if you have the means, donate what you can.

Gender in the Workplace Part 2

A Nonbinary Individual’s Foray into Corporate A.V.

I think my boss gave up on trying to remember my pronouns.

It started about two weeks in. During the hiring and application process, as well as preliminary training, I could tell he was trying. But after seeing how my other coworkers could skirt past it, I suppose he figured he could, too.

I don’t mean any harm to any of my coworkers, I would like to point out. The two 62-year-old guys’ guys can’t be held to the same standard as I could hold a Gen-Z’er with similar political ideologies to me. I don’t hold it against them, as I’m simply chronicling my experience in this line of work. But, and I mean this from the heart, I don’t want to work somewhere where I’m not seen as myself.

My entire A.V. team consists of men, with one exception. Since my transfem coworker quit, there’s only myself and one woman who bucks the trend. She’s a 26-year-old with a music degree and left-leaning views and sees herself as on the older end of Gen-Z. As you can imagine, she’s been my light in the dark during the harder days. She’s fairly consistent with getting my pronouns correct, as well, which is encouraging, especially seeing that I don’t think anyone else has tried.

I have a pin on my messenger bag that reads, in all capital letters, “MY PRONOUNS ARE THEM/THEY.” I’m not entirely sure why the order is them/they instead of they/them, but it’s an important object to me either way. I bought it at Lancaster Pride, back in 2017. I was just figuring myself out at the time. I waited until my friends were out of sight, and then purchased it with cash while nobody was looking. There was a sense of shame about it that I don’t feel anymore. But anyway, I bring this bag with me to work every day. And, believe it or not, this has caused some issues.

I’ve had three different coworkers try to “debate” me about my gender identity like each man somehow knew better than I did.

Those conversations were weird, to say the least, and deeply uncomfortable. The first of which was with an anti-mask climate change denier, so you can imagine how that went. His father and grandfather before him were upper-class white rural farmers. There was a disconnect in the way we were raised, and I think that that makes conversation with him trying at times. Mainly because he’s a man who doesn’t listen to science, not unless it supports his already deeply ingrained beliefs. In all his wisdom, he told me there are only two sexes, like this was somehow news to me. It was as if he genuinely believed I’d gone through over twenty years of life without knowing about chromosomes, and that they were the only basis of gender identity. I mentioned intersex individuals, and then he proceeded to ask me if I was one. Since I am not, he told me that I must be a woman.

The second conversation was with an intelligent guy from Baltimore, about in the same age range as the first fellow I mentioned. We were sitting in a Vietnam War memorial service and luncheon, held in the event center we work at. He and I were stationed at a tech table off to the side. I always really respected this coworker, as he’d had the most experience in the A.V. business. We were talking about history, and eventually, that conversation evolved into talking about the history of race and gender in the Vietnam War era. He is a black man, and he was specifically talking about the terminology used at the time. He mentioned that African American wasn’t a term they used at the time, and he expressed his distaste for it, seeing as he’d never even been to Africa. He was simply American, and he was black. The intersection where those two adjectives met is how he described himself– an intersectional identity.

He then brought up how the way he wore his hair, at the time, drastically changed others’ perception of him. On this topic, I mentioned that I felt the same. People didn’t readily assume I was nonbinary until I cut my hair. I enjoyed wearing my hair in long blonde curls, but it was easier to be nonbinary with short hair. People were able to clock me as queer, and it made the constant coming out a lot easier for me. That’s one thing to note about nonbinary identities– there’s a constant need to come out to be recognized. Hence the pins: it’s a way to be seen and respected without having to constantly address my identity. It’s a good thing, too, because that gets old quickly. My coworker then mentioned the pin on my bag and asked me what being nonbinary meant to me. I was taken a little aback by this, but given the deep nature of our conversation, I answered.

“To me, gender is a protest,” I said, trying to boil down years of study, a complex understanding of gender constructs, and Western societal tradition into one simple sentence. “I was told that, due to something about my body that I can’t change, I had to fit into a certain mold. I had to only spend time with girls, I had to worry about hiding my acne with makeup constantly, and I had to dress a certain way that identified me as a member of a certain sex. Girls were taught in school that they must hide their shoulders, lest they cause a man to stumble. Girls were told they should stay in the kitchen and live to serve men. It’s been less than a century since women were granted the ability to work, and even now wages don’t line up. We are all people, all the same, and I reject the idea that our anatomy somehow makes us inherently different. I believe, deep down, that we’re all the same species, and that our genders aren’t as important in our lives as society has taught us to believe.”

He then changed the topic to religion, and how his religion separated men and women. I felt my eyes gloss over as I listened to the same argument I’d heard a million times, that somehow, the creator made women the submissive, subservient sex. And you know what? I just don’t think that’s true. But agree to disagree, right? It was hurtful, but I wasn’t going to refute his opinion on the “debate” of my identity. He has worked here for over a decade. I’m not going to lose my job over this.

Y’know, this sort of thing doesn’t happen when I’m working in theatre. Before this A.V. gig, I was working at the Pennsylvania Shakespeare Festival as a sound engineer, just outside of Allentown, PA. It was such an eye-opening experience as to what the workplace could be. We were on a tight schedule, but my coworkers and I were always on the same page. I was left in charge of things once I felt comfortable, and there were always other LGBTQ+ individuals not too far away. I felt like a respected and responsible member of the team. It’s weird how something like respect can significantly alter the work environment. Here, in the A.V. position I hold now, I don’t feel as confident or self-assured. When working with coworkers here, I am talked over and talked down to, as if I don’t understand the things I studied at a collegiate level. I am very infrequently scheduled onboard op positions, despite that being my strength, as there’s always a guy “manning” the board. Even though my female coworker is in a managerial role, she’s still treated as if she were at the bottom of the totem pole.

So, I beg the question, is sexism the root of transphobia? In my experience, well. It’s starting to seem so.

Gender in the Workplace – Part 1

A Nonbinary Individual’s Foray into Corporate A.V.

Being nonbinary in central Pennsylvania provides a unique set of challenges, to say the least. I’m very proud of my identity as an enby, and have been out for over half a decade. That doesn’t necessarily mean that things have been easy, though.

I graduated college in Selinsgrove, PA last year, and it was very fascinating the difference in treatment I received across different departments. I was a very dedicated and busy student. I worked four jobs at one point in my college career, mostly in the realm of sound. I was known as “The Sound Guy” around the school. When I was working sound for the theatre, respect for my gender identity was a no-brainer. I remember introducing myself to a professor as the sound guy, and immediately he asked me my pronouns. Everyone was accepting, and in fact, all four of the other sound engineers in the program identified as nonbinary as well—go figure! It was always easy to be myself, and the professors were always respectful of their students in this manner. Music, however, was a different story.

I went to a classical music college, and the vast majority of my education followed the history and musical literature of old, Christian, and largely successful white men. (Shoutout to Hildegard von Bingam and Clara Schubert for bucking the trend, but they were the exception, not the rule.) I feel like this male-centric mindset really purveyed into the minds of faculty and students, even if it was subliminal. This old-school classical mentality meant that there were very few professors who really cared to respect my pronouns, no matter how many times I gently corrected them, or signed an email with (they/them) under my name. It didn’t change. To them, if I looked like a woman, I was one.

I remember when I first started at my job in Hershey. Much like my college experience, I was living in central PA and was still trying to find a workplace that was accepting of my gender identity. When I began, HR and management were very open to using my pronouns correctly, at least during the hiring process. That being said, I’m not a person who’s completely committed to correcting every misgendering slip I hear. I’m aware of the negative stereotyping surrounding that, and I’d like to avoid it at all costs, thanks. Yes, I’ll take the time to inform those whom I care about and to gently remind those whom I see on a regular basis. However, when it comes to other departments or guests, I’m not going to make a scene. (Heaven forbid someone makes an “I identify as an attack helicopter” joke, or a “Did you just assume my gender?!” joke. I don’t think I could take that lightly.) When I began my work there, however, I realized quickly that my A.V. colleagues could not care less how I identified. The hiring and onboarding training, preaching LGBTQIA+ and diversity acceptance, had seemingly been a guise to protect the company from potential lawsuits, rather than an actual company policy.

I wasn’t the only trans person in the workplace. A coworker of mine was (read: was, as she has since quit) a proudly-out transgender woman. She wore makeup, was on HRT, had long nails, and spoke in a high-pitched voice. By all accounts, she was recognizable as a woman, as far as the Western gender binary and all of its stereotypes decreed. As soon as I interacted with her, I knew she was a woman.

Maybe I was the only one who thought that way, because every member of the fifteen-person team (except myself and the one cis woman on staff,) referred to her as a man, and consistently with he/him pronouns. This caught me off guard.

Within the trans community, there is a wide berth of experiences to be had. There are those of us who are within the binary and choose to transition. Some of us don’t abide by the binary and transition, too. There are people with different means of gender identity and expression, different backstories, and different upbringings. We vary in economic class, race, and age. There is no right or wrong way to be trans, but rather a variety of experiences and hardships we face. This being said, if my cis male coworkers couldn’t understand a binary trans person’s experience enough to respect her identity, how on earth could they even begin to grasp mine?

How Can We Boost Intersectionality in Audio?

 

Intersectionality is the interconnected nature of social categorizations such as race, class, and gender as they apply to a given individual or group, regarded as creating overlapping and interdependent systems of discrimination or disadvantage. It is no secret that women, people of color, and other minority groups are highly underrepresented in our audio industry. So how do we change this? We need to understand intersectionality and practice intersectionality as a WAY OF THINKING and ACTION, and not just a word.

Understand and Recognize Differences

Stating that you “don’t see color” is a problem. A huge problem. Understand and recognize there are many different people from all walks of life. Race,  gender, religion, sexual orientation, etc. These character traits are what make each and every one of us individuals and unique. Besides being prejudiced against people who are different from you, learn to embrace differences and recognize your own differences. Understanding and recognizing differences can help the audio industry hire and create a safe space for minority groups.

Increase Representation

How many times have we seen audio companies host panels and seminars with only white cis-gender men on the panel? It is truly disgusting, and when these companies are called out about this, very little is done about the matter. Why is this? We need to increase representation. In order for us to increase representation in the audio industry, we actually need to hire minority groups. Generate panels with more people of color and women in our industry. There are very few if any women or people of color in executive positions. There is not one Black-Owned audio touring company on a large scale in the US. Before you hire your “homeboys” and skip over resumes of names that “sound Black”, please understand the damage that is being done for individuals and groups who already suffer from discrimination disproportionately. There are a lot of racists in power and in positions that inflict their racist ideology in society and jobs. This is also true in our industry.

Join the Conversation

Staying silent and ignoring social justice reforms and racism is not okay. Ally is not a noun. Ally is a verb, something you do and continue to do because it is right. Speak up against racism, homophobia, misogyny, and every other form of hate and oppression. Join the conversation against hate and create a conversation in the workplace. We saw many companies speak up standing with BLM but continue to discriminate against Blacks. We need to continue to educate ourselves and each other.

More on creating an inclusive industry

How to Find the Best Candidate for the Job

Twi McCallum on Hiring Black Designers and Creatives

Twi McCallum on The SoundGirls Podcast

For the Men Who Want to Support Women in Audio

A Guide to Supporting Women in Sound

Black Technicians Matter

On Current Events and the State of Our Industry

Women in Audio – Music Blogs, Collectives, and Organizations

A More Inclusive Industry

 

 

 

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